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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28077096">Santa, baby</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Excuseyouclarke/pseuds/Excuseyouclarke'>Excuseyouclarke</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The 100 (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Christmas, F/M, Magic, Mentions of car accident, Santa! Bellamy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 18:20:30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>16,684</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28077096</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Excuseyouclarke/pseuds/Excuseyouclarke</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Bellamy's life is just how he likes it - ordinary and boring. That is until he gets coerced into being Santa, and he's thrown into a world of chaos and magic. </p><p>Then he meets Clarke Griffin, and his secret life becomes a little bit harder to keep a secret.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>94</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>The t100 Writers for BLM Initiative</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Santa, baby</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Broashcol94/gifts">Broashcol94</a>.</li>



    </ul></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Bellamy can say with confidence that as an adult, his life has always been normal.</p><p>The mundane, ordinary, nothing ever happens kind of normal. That’s exactly how he likes it. His life has order, there’s routine and predictability. After his entire childhood had been the opposite of that, he thrives as an adult to just exist in the most ordinary way as possible.</p><p>That is until the day before Christmas eve, when he hits someone with his car.</p><p>Really, it should have been more dramatic; there should have been a smashed windscreen or blood – he’d have expected blood. There’s always blood and screaming in the movies, instead there’s just a dent on the front of his car and an empty road.</p><p>The police just look at him like he’s crazy when he turns himself in, resigned to the fact he’s about to spend his first of many, many Christmases in prison. They don’t arrest him, just begrudgingly take his details and tell him they’ll let him know if they get any new information.</p><p>Octavia, for the most part, finds it hilarious.</p><p>“Are you sure it wasn’t a deer?” she asks condescendingly when he phones to tell her. “Because there’s a lot of deer around here, I don’t think a person would have just ran away like that.”</p><p>“They might have,” he counteracts. “They might have been in trouble, or a stowaway, oh god they were running from the police, weren’t they?”</p><p>Octavia sighs down the phone, already annoyed by his crisis, as if it wasn’t a traumatic event for him.</p><p>“Listen, I’m sure it’ll be fine, you checked the area and there was no one there, if they were really injured they’d have been in contact with the police by now, you’re probably freaking out over nothing. It was just an animal or something, try and calm down.”</p><p>“Okay,” he mutters, trying his hardest to accept what she’s saying instead of spiraling deeper.</p><p>“Good. You’re still coming over tomorrow, right?” He’d have thought their Christmas eve tradition of baking cooking and watching horrendously cheesy Christmas films would have worn off by now, but it hasn’t. He expected it to die off when he went to college, but every year he’d come home and Octavia would insist they made cookies. Even after they’d both moved out and lost their mom, it was their one piece of childhood that always stuck with them.</p><p>“Of course,” he promises, “wouldn’t miss it for the world.”</p><p>As it turns out, he would miss it.</p><p>There’s a knock on the door early that morning as he’s making his first cup of coffee, and immediately assumes the worst. It’s the police, he knows it is. Someone’s come forward and now they’re here to arrest him.</p><p>There’s a man in a white suit, which he thinks isn’t very typical of the police, but who is he to question it?</p><p>“Bellamy Blake?” He questions, there’s a serious tone and a critical glint in his eye, Bellamy wonders if he could join a gang in prison or if it's better to just keep to himself.</p><p>“Yes,” Bellamy sighs, waiting for the handcuffs.</p><p>“You hit Santa with your car last night.”</p><p>Well, that just makes it worse. Not only had he hit someone, it was one of those mall Santa’s that always seemed so happy and jolly. Octavia used to love going to them as a kid, there was one that was free, and she got a present to go with it. It was a godsend when there were times they couldn’t even put food on the table.</p><p>“Oh god,” Bellamy winces, “Is he alright? I’m so sorry, I didn’t even see them, it was dark and foggy and there’s no lights on that road. I couldn’t even see him after I’d hit him.”</p><p>The man just continues staring at him critically, Bellamy’s sure he can see into his soul.</p><p>“He’s not alright, you killed him.”</p><p>He feels sick, he doesn’t know how he’s going to cope with the thought of having killed someone. Someone who probably had a wife and kids and friends who loved him.</p><p>“We need you to take his place,” he continues, which throws Bellamy completely.</p><p>“You want me to take his place as a…mall Santa?” They should be arresting him, not making him dress up in a ridiculous red outfit and hand out cheap plastic presents to kids. Surely they’re not in that sort of supply of people willing to be a mall Santa that they’re knocking on doors asking murderers.</p><p>“Mall Santa?” The man frowns, “He <em> was </em> Santa, and we’ve got no one to replace him which means you need to step up and take his place.”</p><p>Bellamy blinks dumbly. He doesn’t know what kind of tactic this was, but it wasn’t going to work on him. Did they want him to take some sort of plea deal? Was it a new type of community service or something?</p><p>“Look, just arrest me or whatever you do,” Bellamy sighs, he wants this to be over, he’ll plead guilty and confess, he wasn’t trying to run away from what he’d done.</p><p>The man’s just staring at him disdainfully, as if he’s disgusted by Bellamy’s very presence. He has every right to be, he’s a murderer. A murderer who’s going away for a long time, he can imagine the headlines now, <em> Local teacher kills mall Santa. </em></p><p>With a sigh, the man holds out a key to him, it’s oversized and delicately engraved. “I’m not here to arrest you, Bellamy. Hold this.”</p><p>Even more confused now, he grabs the end of the key, wondering what kind of weird test this was, and his world twists and contorts, spinning around him and making him nauseous. Then – he’s freezing cold, standing calf deep in the snow and more fluttering around him in a dark night. He’s in the middle of a sleepy village, lit up with warm winter lights and candles in street lamps.</p><p>It looks like something he’d see on a Christmas card, and as beautiful as it is, he has no idea how he got here.</p><p>“What the hell’s going on?” he whispers. Did he accidentally take drugs at some point? Or is this some sort of strange fever dream?</p><p>“You were never going to believe me if I just told you,” the man tells him bluntly. “It’s easier to just show you.</p><p>“Who the hell are you?” Bellamy demands, his voice cracks though and he doesn’t sound even half as intimidating as he’d like. Probably a result of being transported wherever this is and the news that he’s a murderer.</p><p>“My name's Doucette,” he says as if it’s obvious. Out of everything that’s happened in the last five minutes, that is by far the most ridiculous thing he’s heard. “I’m the conductor here, I keep everything running smoothly.”</p><p>“I’m not calling you that.”</p><p>Doucette frowns at him and cocks his head. “That’s my name, what else would you call me?”</p><p>“Just–” Bellamy feels as though he can't catch his breath, his head is still spinning and his stomach churns. It’s also absolutely freezing. “I’ll call you Steve.” That takes care of one weird thing. “Where are we again?”</p><p>“Santa’s village,” he says – deadly serious, as if that’s a real thing and Bellamy’s not having a hallucination. “Come this way, I’ll show you.”</p><p>He marches Bellamy into what looks like a cosy cottage where somebody’s grandma should be sitting in front of the fire knitting. Instead, he’s led into a workshop buzzing with energy, there’s glitter and ribbons and wrapping paper thrown all over the place, some people happily chatting and others running around in a frenzy. It looks like –</p><p>Well, it looks like Santa’s grotto. Now he’s sure it’s a dream. This place should be a tiny cottage lit up by an open fire, not fluorescent lights of a room that looks twice the size of what it should from the outside.</p><p>“I think I’m going to be sick,” he mutters, this was the effects of hitting whoever, mixed with Christmas stress. That must be it, he’s still asleep in bed, this is all a bad dream and he’s going to wake up confused any moment now.</p><p>Or now.</p><p>Or now.</p><p>“We haven’t got time for you to be sick.” Steve snaps at him with a glare, “You have a job to do, and right now that involves delivering presents to children in – ” he checks his pocket watch with a huff. “Fifteen minutes. Now get a move on.”</p><p>“No.” Bellamy plants himself firmly to the spot. “Not until you explain exactly what’s going on.”</p><p>Steve pauses, giving him a critical glance over. Finally, he concedes and sighs, “Fine, come into the office, we can be a little bit late <em> just this once </em>.”</p><p>Steve’s office is filled with maps and plans and formulas he doesn’t quite understand. It’s cluttered but impersonal, it’s the space of a man who loves his job more than he likes having a life. Bellamy’s worried that’s what his office will look like someday, but now is not the time to have a crisis about his work-life balance.</p><p>There is one picture, of a man who looks like the Santa you see on the television and on Christmas cards, the typical Santa that kids visit in the mall at Christmas. As much as Bellamy’s hoping this is nothing but a dream, it all feels much too real for it.</p><p>“Sit down.” Steve’s tone is softer now, still with a harsh edge, but he doesn’t sound like an army general anymore. “Usually we have more time to prepare for this,” he mutters.</p><p>“Prepare for what? Absolutely nothing is clear about <em> this,” </em> Bellamy gestures wildly, not just to the room, but everywhere. The workshop that looks like a cottage from the outside, the village that is most definitely <em> not </em> in Virginia, the weird transportation. Not to mention how the hell this man knows his name – though it’s clear he’s not a cop.</p><p>“Bellamy Blake, you stopped believing in Santa Clause when you were six years old. Your sister, Octavia was six months old and your mother barely had enough money to put food on the table, so she sat down and explained that there wouldn’t be many presents this year, because there wasn’t enough money for things like that.”</p><p>Bellamy <em> will not </em> cry thinking about that Christmas, sat at the table with his mother while Octavia was sleeping. He’d had too much responsibility at a young age, looking back on it only reinforces that he never really got to be a child, that was taken away from him too early in life. He knew his mother felt bad about it, but what could they do? Neither of them had a Dad, his mother worked a low paying job as a seamstress and took odd jobs on the side where she could just manage to make ends meet. It wasn’t fair on him, but that’s the way it had to be.</p><p>“That year, you still got a present off Santa, because even though you were told not to believe, there was still a tiny part of you that still did, you held onto the magic as long as you could. As you got older and grew out of believing in it anyway, Octavia believed. So, you still got the present off Santa, you thought it was your mother being funny, she thought it was you. “</p><p>He doesn’t know how this man knows all of this about him, it’s beginning to freak him out a little but he tries his best not to show it.</p><p>“Every year, we deliver presents to children all around the world. We keep the magic of Christmas alive even though it’s been so poorly forgotten. Usually, when one Santa passes on, there’s someone ready to take his place, but this year his passing was rather – unexpected.” He throws a glare at Bellamy, and he realises with a jolt that he really did kill Santa.</p><p>Well he’s just the worst person in the world.</p><p>“So, instead of the council picking the next in line, it’s going to have to be you.”</p><p>“What if I don’t want to be Santa?” Bellamy challenges. His life has already been eventful enough with raising his sister, he’s already had enough responsibility to last him a lifetime. He doesn’t need more, especially not the responsibility of being Santa of all things. It really was a ridiculous notion, but here they are, in a strange village what seems far away from home.</p><p>Steve blinks dumbly at him for a moment, not seeming to comprehend what Bellamy’s just said. “What you want doesn’t come into this, you hit Santa with your car the day before he was needed, which means someone needs to step up and whether you like it or not it’s you who has to do it.”</p><p>Steve’s gone an interesting shade of red, and Bellamy considers that maybe it wasn’t his best idea to say that. Steve slams something on the desk between them, something red with white fur around it. Bellamy’s stomach sinks.</p><p>“Put this on,” Steve demands, and not wanting to be shouted at again, he sighs and puts the jacket on over his clothes. It’s way too big, he could fit three of him in there comfortably. He has to tuck the pants into his sweats, he looks completely ridiculous.</p><p>“I’m not wearing this.”</p><p>“You have an image to uphold.”</p><p>“Nope.” Bellamy shakes his head, <em> this </em> is where he draws the line, right here. “I look ridiculous, is anyone even going to see me?”</p><p>Nobody had better see him, doesn’t that kind of take away the point of being Santa, though? You’re not supposed to see him, he’s an invisible force that leaves kids presents and eats their food. That’s the general concept of it, anyway. He can’t really remember a time where he believed in Santa clearly.</p><p>“Well no, nobody sees you but that’s not the point. It’s the image –”</p><p>“Santa’s getting a new image, he’s wearing sweats now.”</p><p>Steve spends the next hour going through every single little detail he could ever possibly need to know.</p><p>But really, it boils down to one thing: it’s all real. Santa, magic, the sleigh, reindeers, it was all real. It was making his head hurt, part of him was still desperately hoping this was a dream or a prank, but deep down he knows it’s not – his life is about to get a whole lot crazier.</p><p>*</p><p>Octavia almost cries from laughter when he tells her why he didn’t turn up for Christmas Eve, but somehow she believes him much easier than he believes it himself.</p><p>Although Bellamy did have photographic evidence, so that helped to win her over.</p><p>Despite the craziness that he’s still in a little bit of denial about, it was magical. Although he does spend the rest of the year trying to forget about it and hopes they find someone else to be Santa from now on.</p><p>They don’t; Steve still turns up at his door every Christmas Eve, and every year he’s still Santa.</p><p>So for 363 days a year, he’s boring. Ordinary, mundane, dull, tedious, the way he likes it. He goes to work, comes home, cooks, cleans, watches TV then goes to bed. On a Friday he goes to a bar with his friends, and on the weekends he sometimes goes for a walk.</p><p>It’s a completely uninteresting life, and that’s the way he’d like to keep it.</p><p>Until he meets Clarke Griffin at a New Years Eve party his friends dragged him to, and promptly spills beer down her dress. To say he was mortified was putting it lightly, but she laughs and tells him not to worry about it as he awkwardly tries to dab a napkin over her stomach.</p><p>He’s lucky she found it endearing and didn’t call the cops on him. He was still exhausted from his Christmas expedition and not thinking straight. But she puts a hand over his, stopping him and tells him it’s alright, she didn’t really like that dress anyway.</p><p>As it turned out, she had been dragged to that party by her friends too, and she’d much rather be sat at home watching the celebrations on the TV, in her pyjamas and wrapped up in a blanket. Bellamy’s pretty sure he’s in love from that very moment. He wasn’t aware of time passing around them, tucked into the corner while the party got wilder around then. The next thing he knew a sloppy countdown was shouted and then Clarkes lips are on his    and there’s fireworks in his heart.</p><p>Clarke was so much more than he ever could have dreamt. She’s kind and funny, she’s so damn clever it blows his mind. They move faster than he has ever had with anyone before, but it feels right, everything feels natural with her. His sister loves her, and she fits in well with his friendship group, and he fits in with hers. After the first few months of dating they all just seemed to combine, and they get on better than Bellamy could have anticipated.</p><p>The following months bring so much happiness and laughter, his heart so full he thinks it might explode as some point.</p><p>“Do you think she’s the one?” Octavia asks one day. Clarke’s at work and he’s coming to the end of the summer break, which means he’ll have to go back to work soon. He despises the thought.</p><p>Bellamy blushes at the question, he’s never been one for cheesiness or heartfelt love confessions. “Yeah” he admits quietly “I think she is.”</p><p>Octavia squeals in delight and claps her hands. “Amazing! When are you going to tell her?”</p><p>He wishes he could play dumb, but he really, really can’t. There’s one big secret that he’s keeping from her, from everyone except his sister. There’s a good reason for keeping it a secret – there’s not a soul in the world that would believe him. He barely believes it himself, until December 24th comes along and he’s summoned to do his job.</p><p>“No,” he sighs, much to Octavia’s disappointment. “Look, it’s been eight months, and it’s been amazing, but I really don’t think I’m ready to tell her yet, and I don’t think she’s ready to hear it.”</p><p>“If she really loves you then she’ll accept it,” Octavia points out. Although she may have a point, it’s not as black and white as just blindly believing him. Clarke was raised very seriously, while her father always made an effort for Christmas, her mother never bothered much.</p><p>Then her father died on Christmas Eve, and she stopped celebrating it all together. So for Bellamy to drop a Christmas tree shaped bombshell on her like <em> this, </em> he doesn’t know how she’d react.</p><p>“What am I even supposed to say to her, O – ‘Hey Clarke, did I ever tell you about that time I hit Santa with my car and killed him? Yeah it was mad, they made me replace him and I’ve been Santa ever since. Fancy trying that new restaurant out tonight? It’s got rave reviews, babe.”</p><p>Octavia snorts. “It’s not awful to be fair.”</p><p>“Not happening,” he shakes his head. “No way, it’s much too early in the relationship for conversations like that. I’ll tell her when I think the time is right, okay? Until then – leave it.”</p><p>She pouts but accepts it. The only problem is, there never seems to be a right time. As they get closer to Christmas, he notices Clarkes mood deplete. He knows Christmas is hard for her, he does everything he can think of to cheer her up, but eventually she tells him that while she appreciates the effort, there’s nothing he can do to make the situation any better.</p><p>It breaks his heart, not only does he hate seeing Clarke sad, it’s also his favourite time of the year, and not just because he’s Santa. Growing up, they didn’t have a lot, but they always had Christmas. They’d decorate the tree with their measly collection of ornaments and make Christmas cookies. His mother didn’t have a lot of money, but she always managed to make Christmas seem magical for them. Even after she passed, he and Octavia carried on the Christmas tradition.</p><p>It was made all the more special by Bellamy’s annual adventure on Christmas Eve night. Octavia was the only person he’d ever told, mainly because she was the only one who wouldn’t try and institutionalise him when he told them. He could only imagine his friends’ faces if he announced it at the bar one night over a couple of beers.</p><p>He was also under strict instructions not to tell anybody but – semantics.</p><p>Christmas gets closer, and the right time doesn’t come along, so he accepts that this isn’t going to be the year to tell her.</p><p>They’re cooking dinner at her apartment when she switches the radio channel over as a Christmas song comes on.</p><p>“Hey,” he murmurs, wrapping his arms around her waist from behind and brushing his lips against her cheek. “You okay?”</p><p>“Yeah,” she sighs, putting her knife down on the chopping board and turning in his arms to face him. “I’m sorry, I know how much you love Christmas and I’m being a grinch.”</p><p>“You’re not being a grinch,” he assures her “You didn’t get that mad when I put a Christmas tree up in your living room.”</p><p>It draws a laugh from her at least, “I was more surprised, and a little concerned about how you got into my apartment.”</p><p>So being Santa came with some advantages, like the ability to break into houses without a trace. He’s using his powers for good, though.</p><p>He’s sure Steve will have something to say about it, but that’s a problem for Christmas Eve.</p><p>“I have my ways,” he shrugs. “What are you doing for Christmas this year?” he hadn’t gotten around to asking about Christmas traditions after she’d told him that her Dad had died on Christmas Eve, it somehow didn’t feel right at the time. But the time for him to go away was getting closer, and he had to have some excuse about why he wasn’t around.</p><p>“Mom and I usually just get take out Christmas Eve night, it’s a bit of a grim night for us so you know.”</p><p>“Oh,” he blinks, maybe this would be easier than he first thought. “I’m guessing you don’t want company?”</p><p>She smiles softly at him, she’s honestly the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen, he still gets tongue-tied looking at her, which is why lying to her is so hard. But still, it’s a necessity. “No, I know you go to your sisters and do a whole big thing at Christmas, me being there would just bring the mood down, and you don’t want that.”</p><p>“Are you sure?” he frowns, though he’s not sure why he asked it. It’s not like he can invite her to his sisters when he spends the night globetrotting.</p><p>“I’m sure. Really Bellamy, it’s fine, go have a good time with your sister, I can’t leave Mom alone on Christmas Eve anyway.”</p><p>He sighs in relief – he hopes that part’s not obvious to her – and kisses her forehead. “Okay,” he whispers.</p><p>He does spend the night before Christmas Eve with her, they compromise at watching Die Hard, set on Christmas so Bellamy still classes it as a Christmas film, but there’s no obvious Christmas plotline for Clarke to turn her nose up at. They order a pizza to go with it, but Bellamy thinks the film’s going to be over by the time they get it.</p><p>When the doorbell to her apartment finally chimes, he jumps up and pauses the film. “I’ll get it,” he assures her, grabbing his wallet from his back pocket as he goes.</p><p>“Sorry for the delay,” the kid at the door tells him as he passes him the Pizza, “Christmas rush, the shop sent a free bottle of cola, as an apology.”</p><p>“Oh,” Bellamy looks at the bottle he passes him, and curls his lip up in disgust at the picture on it. The fat jolly white guy with a beard and red suit. He hates it, every year it gets a rise out of him no matter how well prepared for it he is. “Thanks” he mutters, kicking the door shut behind him.</p><p>Clarke’s getting plates out the cupboard when he gets back, it always makes him smile. “You can tell you grew up rich,” he snorts. “It’s pizza, it’s designed to just be picked up.”</p><p>“No, it's greasy” she mumbles, setting them down on the coffee. “Don’t worry, I won’t get a knife and fork out. Can you grab a couple of cups for the drinks, please?”</p><p>“Sure.” He sets the bottle down a little too forcibly, he’s sure the fake Santa’s laughing at him.</p><p>He can’t concentrate on the movie with the Jolly old imposter winking at him like that, so he turns the bottle around and crosses his arms petulantly.</p><p>Clarke raises an eyebrow at him, “Did Santa upset you?”</p><p>He rolls his eyes, on the other side of the bottle, he can feel fake Santa grinning at him. “It just annoys me, how people think Santa always looks like that, some Jolly fat guy with a beard.”</p><p>Clarke laughs in surprise, obviously not understanding why he’s so annoyed about it. Which is probably for the best, really. “Do you not think he should look like that?”</p><p>“No,” he grumbles, “who decided that he looked like that anyway, it looks terrible, and that suit’s completely impractical for delivering presents all night.”</p><p>There’s a moment of silence where Clarke just blinks at him, mouth opening and closing a couple of times as she tries to find the words to respond to <em> that </em> rant. “You know, I think cola actually designed the whole Santa thing, but if you’re really pressed about it we can start a campaign to change him, I don’t think it’s going to go down well, though, he’s kind of an icon.”</p><p>“Icon,” Bellamy snorts, then realises he has to reign it in already, he’s not doing himself any favours here ranting about Santa Claus.</p><p>“You’re adorable,” she leans over and kisses his cheek, then makes a grab for a slice of pizza. He’s lucky he won the girlfriend lottery with her.</p><p>When he wakes up Christmas eve morning, Clarkes curled up next to him, head on his shoulder and arm over his waist. As much as he’d like to stay here forever, he has a job to do. Carefully, he untangles himself and brushes the hair out of her face.</p><p>“Hey,” he whispers when she finally blinks awake. “I’m sorry, it’s really early but I need to go to my sister’s. Is there anything you need before I go?”</p><p>She rubs her eyes and looks over at the alarm clock, groaning when she sees the time. “No it’s fine, I’m going to my moms in a bit. Have a good time.”</p><p>“I’ll text you later,” he promises, “but text me if you need anything.”</p><p>“Yeah, yeah,” she grumbles, turning over and pulling the blanket up to her chin. The guilt’s immeasurable, leaving her today like this, but needs must.</p><p>Back at his house, he showers and brushes his teeth, then gets his Christmas bag out from the back of the closet. With a deep breath, he takes the key out the side pocket and hoists the bag onto his shoulder, clenching the key in his fist and closing his eyes tight.</p><p>There’s a whoosh of air in his ears, his stomach drops and his head spins, then – the cold takes over.</p><p>He’s standing ankle deep in the snow, it’s still snowing heavily, the sun not yet risen so the land’s dark and the last of the stars twinkle brightly. The cottage next to him is dimly lit, smoke rising lazily from the chimney. It looks peaceful, sleepy. Bellamy knows it’s all an illusion.</p><p>When he unlocks the door and steps in, it’s pandemonium. There’s people moving everywhere, moving in chaos and an organised mess.</p><p>“It’s about time you showed up,” Steve barks from behind him. Bellamy jumps and spins around. Steve’s standing tall and stiff, like he usually is, his white suit pressed and immaculately clean. “I thought you were never going to turn up.”</p><p>“It’s four in the morning.” Bellamy rolls his eyes at the dramatics, though he’s got a sneaking suspicion what this is about. “I was at my girlfriends house.”</p><p>“I saw,” is all Steve responds, jaw tight before he turns on his heel and starts walking towards the factory.</p><p>The last of the presents are being wrapped as the workers hum in perfect harmony. The first couple of years, it had freaked him out, now it’s just business as usual. “Hey Jasper,” he calls out as he walks past one of the wrapping stations, “good year?”</p><p>“Yeah, me and my buddy perfected the recipe for our moonshine, it doesn’t knock you out straight away, but it’s got a damn good buzz.”</p><p>Bellamy blinks, he supposes this is how Clarke felt yesterday when he was ranting about Santa. “That’s fantastic, I’m happy for you.”</p><p>“Delinquent,” Steve mutters under his breath as they carry on walking.</p><p>Christmas was always a magical time of year for him growing up, the one day he had no responsibilities or worries. But being here, it was all the more special, knowing he was bringing that exact same joy to children like him all over the globe.  </p><p>When he was first put into the role, he didn’t believe any of this could be possible, he didn’t believe in magic or flying sleighs pulled by reindeers, he didn’t believe in Santa. But still, here he is, getting ready for the first stop and the joy that goes with it.</p><p>“So,” he claps his hands together when they get to the office. “Who’s on my naughty and nice list, Steve?”</p><p>Steve sighs and gives him an exasperated look, “You know my name’s not Steve, and you know that’s not how it works.”</p><p>“Fine. What’s the plan for tonight, <em> Doucette? </em>”</p><p>There’s a map on the desk that Steve leans on, the time zones for midnight planned out already, Steve’s nothing if not ridiculously organised. “The same plan as every year, <em> Bellamy. </em>You’ll have your hourglass, in and out, don’t mess around, either.”</p><p>“Would I ever?” Bellamy quirks an eyebrow. Steve rolls his eyes.</p><p>“Last year you were behind because you decided to move everybody’s furniture two inches to the side.”</p><p>He was right, to be fair. But in his defence, it got a bit tedious just going in and out of houses and dropping off presents. He loved doing it, and he wouldn’t change it for the world now, but still he needed a bit more entertainment when he was on his own.</p><p>He thinks of Clarke again, the sun would just be setting in America and she’d be going to her moms soon. He knows that’s a hard enough task when it’s not the anniversary of her father’s death.</p><p>“Thinking of your girlfriend?” Steve asks, giving him a critical once over.</p><p>“I am, as a matter of face, <em> Steve. </em> It’s the anniversary of her fathers death, so it’s a bit of a tough day for her.”</p><p>“Oh, I know. We’ve already fully vetted her, Clarke Griffin, aged 27, stopped believing in Santa when she was 4 years old because she was too logical for her own good. Her father was Jake Griffin, died in a car accident on Christmas Eve ten years ago. You didn’t hit him with your car, did you?”</p><p>“Shut up.” Bellamy glares, “You know I didn’t.”</p><p>“No, only Santa apparently.”</p><p>It was a low blow, but he supposes it’s well deserved.</p><p>“You would pick a girl who hates Christmas,” Steve mutters.</p><p> “You don’t know that” Bellamy mutters back, Steve gives him a critical glance over.</p><p>“Do you really think we’re not watching you all year around? Jasper lost his goddamn mind when you kissed for the first time.”</p><p>Bellamy blushes furiously, it was bad enough his first kiss with her was wasted at a New Year’s party neither of them wanted to be at, now he knows there was an entire village of people watching him. “You don’t watch everything we do, right?”</p><p>“No, there’s things I’d rather not see.”</p><p>“Oh, thank god,” Bellamy sighs in relief. He changes the subject before he can be told any more mortifying details or opinions of his relationship with Clarke. He doesn’t want to think of his life being played out as a movie for everyone to see. “Where’s my list then, have we checked it twice, do we know who’s naughty or nice?”</p><p>Steve’s jaw tenses and he squeezes his eyes shut. Bellamy would have thought by now he’d be used to the Christmas jokes, but apparently not. </p><p>“You know we don’t do that,” Steve sighs, “and you know I check it more than twice, how else is it supposed to be accurate? Do you know how many children stop believing in Santa <em> this close </em> to Christmas? A lot. It plays havoc with my lists.”</p><p>Bellamy thinks he may have struck a nerve, though Steve’s right, it’s not the most convenient time to stop believing, and it does make their lives harder. Behind Steve, a screen lights up and a map starts blinking.</p><p>Every child who believes in Santa has a dot. There’s a special kind of magic that tracks them, one that he doesn’t understand - but he doesn't need to understand the ins and outs of it, it’s enough that it exists. </p><p>Lights blink on and off, children who stop believing fade out and children who are just discovering the magic flash into existence. The bedtime stories of Santa bring a special kind of magic this time of year, children who are just old enough to understand get more and more excited. </p><p>“The list will be finalised before you go,” Steve informs him, same as every year. </p><p>“What did you do before technology?” Bellamy always feels like a child when he’s here, asking hundreds of questions and letting a childlike curiosity take over. He supposes Steve isn’t used to this, the questions and curiosity. The new Santa is picked out well in advance, they understand the process better than he does. </p><p>“We hand wrote them” Steve mutters, looking over the map again.</p><p>“All of them?” Bellamy frowns, that’s a lot of names if it’s for every child who believes in Santa. “Wait, we - as in you? How old are you?”</p><p>Steve just glares at him. Another light fades away on the screen, another child loses the magical belief. </p><p>Bellamy decides to stop annoying Steve at that point and go see how the presents were coming along. There’s still a few hours left, he may as well bug someone else for a bit. </p><p>There’s a conveyor belt of toys, all handmade with love and care. When he first got here he expected - well, he expected the workers to be shorter, with pointy ears and green little outfits. That’s one of the many myths of Christmas, there’s no elves, just volunteers from the surrounding villages that make Christmas magical and ask for nothing in return. </p><p>On one of the tables, ready to be boxed and wrapped is a spinning top, made from wood and painted in intricate patterns. He twists the top and watches it spin faster and faster, the colours blurring together. When he was a child, he had one just like this - looking back, it was an odd sort of a present for his mother to buy him, even then he knew they couldn't afford anything handcrafted like this. </p><p>It was his favourite present, though. He’d had it the year Octavia was born, the last year he ever believed in Santa, and he played with it every single night, lay on the floor of his tiny bedroom watching it spin around and around for hours until his mother finally sent him to bed. </p><p>He still has it, tucked away in the closet, he couldn't bear to get rid of it. Maybe it’s something he’ll pass down to his children, he’ll tell them the story of Santa and let them experience the same joy he got from playing with it as a child.</p><p>“Penny for your thoughts?” The voice makes Bellamy jump, he turns quickly to see Harper smirking at him eyebrows raised as she looks between him and the spinning top. </p><p>“Jesus, Harper” he mutters, his heart pounding a mile a minute. It’s hard to lose your thoughts in a place like this, there’s so much going on and so much noise you can never really switch off, but just for a moment, he was transported back in time. “I had one of these as a kid, from here actually. It was my favourite toy growing up.”</p><p>“That’s sweet” Harper smiles, “I’m always worried that with all the technology kids have these days they don’t appreciate the little things like this.” She picks up the spinning top from the table and examines it, no matter what technology there is out there, Bellamy thinks you can’t beat the simple little things like this.</p><p>“I’m sure they appreciate it, especially having that one extra present under the tree. I know for some kids it’s like a drop in the ocean, but for others it makes their christmas.” </p><p>She smiles kindly at him, he doesn't know how much they know about his childhood, but he always tries to make sure the volunteers here know how much their hard work is appreciated. It’s not like they have to do this, they don’t get paid for it - most of them have jobs and families outside of this little workshop, they take none of the credit, they do it purely for the love of Christmas. </p><p>“There’s just a few more things left to wrap and we’re good to go,” Harper tells him, looking around. The whole workshop is still in organised chaos, wrapping paper and bows and ribbon strewn across the place. He knows how much of a stress Christmas Eve is for them.</p><p>“I can help, I swear my wrapping skills have improved. My girlfriend’s been teaching me - she’s an artist.”</p><p>There’s a grin he can’t quite figure out on Harper's face, he suspects it’s because it’s the first time he’s brought Clarke up in conversation. “Okay, sure. We’d appreciate the help.” She leads him to one of the work benches, red wrapping paper and silver ribbons and bows piled neatly. Boxes aren’t too hard to wrap, and he manages it fairly neatly - not as neat as everyone else, but he doesn’t have as much patience.</p><p>Luckily he has a patient girlfriend who was willing to teach him this year. He’s sitting between Harper and a woman called Niylah who happily tells him all about the inn she runs in the next village over. With a smirk she tells him about the old man who plays Santa every year, complete with red suit and long white beard. </p><p>There’s a ripple of giggle and sniggers around him, it’s a well known fact how much he hates the Santa look, he doesn’t see why he should have to give into a corporation's vision of how he should dress to give out presents. </p><p>The people who designed that look don’t even believe in him, it’s a money making ploy that he won’t play into.</p><p>“Are you getting angry about capitalism again?” A girl called Monroe smirks as she adds a bow to her perfectly wrapped parcel, he’s not jealous. </p><p>“No,” he lies, but they see through him, he swore this year he would not go on angry rants about how capitalism is destroying the world. So far he’s been successful.</p><p>Across the table, Monty’s making eyes at Harper, and he’s pretty sure Harpers blushing.</p><p>“Do you like him?” Bellamy whispers, leaning over to steal some of her ribbon.</p><p>“No.” She hisses, taking the ribbon back. “Maybe, I don’t know, do you think he likes me?”</p><p>Bellamy snorts under his breath, “well he’s not giving <em> me </em> those looks.”</p><p>Harper smiles and looks away, oh yeah - she likes him. “Shut up.”</p><p>“Nah,” he grins, “You better be together next year.” </p><p>Harper blushes and bites her lip, the last of the presents are wrapped now, and getting ready to be put on the sleigh. Bellamy stands and stretches out, Steve’s giving him a disdainful look from his office. Apparently the <em> old </em> Santa never got involved with the behind the scenes stuff, just turned up when it was time to get on the sleigh and he wasn’t seen again, didn’t interact with anybody or know their names, it’s a bit sad.</p><p>The reindeers are being fed as he walks out to the sleigh, the snows heavier and the suns beginning to rise, which means it's only a couple of hours until take off.</p><p>Prancer nudges his arm for attention, Bellamy strokes his head, trying to keep out the way of the antlers, he’s learnt the hard way not to be struck by them.</p><p>“Hey Bellamy,” Jasper calls from the back of the sleigh, the present sacks secured tightly on the back, the last thing they need is <em> that </em> falling off.</p><p>“Hey kid, everything good?”</p><p>Jasper nods enthusiastically and jumps down, pulling a carrot out of his back pocket for Prancer. He takes a bite then turns his head, as if they would try to steal a mashed up carrot out his mouth. “All ready to go. Are you excited?”</p><p>Excited was always a strange way of thinking about it. It felt like he was living in a fever dream when he came here, it was the epitome of a Christmas movie, the low budget one he’d put on for Octavia to watch on Christmas afternoon while they gorged themselves on candy. He likes to pretend it's all a dream, anyway. He’s always home for Christmas morning with Octavia, he can pretend he was sleep walking when he walks through his door, bone tired and weary with the last sprinkle of magic on his jacket.</p><p>“Yeah,” he settles on, not wanting to squash Jasper’s enthusiasm. “It’s going to be fun.”</p><p>Jasper sighs and looks back towards the sleigh, “I wish I could do it, it looks like a blast.”</p><p>Bellamy wishes he could pass over the reins and let Jasper do it, he’d probably get more out of it than Bellamy, but he’s been told many, many times that it doesn’t work like that. This is Bellamy’s job, unless he’s physically unable to do it, so there’s no chance of getting out of it just yet.</p><p>It does give him an idea, though. “Why don’t you come with me this year?”</p><p>Jasper’s eyes light up in glee, “Seriously? You really mean that?”</p><p>“Yeah,” Bellamy laughs, “go get your jacket. We leave in a bit.”</p><p>Jasper frowns suddenly, “Will the conductor be okay with that? You never usually go out with anyone.”</p><p>“You leave Steve to me, just go get ready.”</p><p>Jasper practically skips away, Bellamy shakes his head with a laugh, it would be nice to have some company for a change. With one last pat on Prancer’s head he goes off to stress Steve out.</p><p>He’s already red faced and spitting by the time Bellamy makes his way back to the office. He does have some sympathy for him, he spends all year stressing over this one night for Bellamy – well, Santa – to get all of the credit.</p><p>“So, I told Jasper he can come with me.” Bellamy tells him, but by the look on his face, he already knows.</p><p>“Just for one year will you follow protocol?” he snaps with a glare, Bellamy just shrugs.</p><p>“Maybe next year,” he concedes, and ducks out the office before anything more can be said. He’s lucky to have gotten out with his head still on his shoulders, but he doesn’t think about that, he only has to see Steve once a year, he may as well make their time together memorable.</p><p>He rushes back outside, the wrapping stations are clear now, everybody gathering outside for the most anticipated event of the year. He has to admit, he loves this job, bringing joy to children all around the world, even if it does sound horrendously cheesy in his head. Jaspers already sat in the sleigh, practically buzzing from the excitement.</p><p>“Ready?” he asks, Jaspers nods, his entire body rocking with it.</p><p>Steve’s standing there then, giving him a hard stare and an exasperated sigh. “You know your way right? And you’ve got your hourglass. Make sure you’re back before sunrise, and good luck.”</p><p>“Luck,” Jasper snorts, “he’s Santa Claus, he doesn’t need luck.”</p><p>“Thank you.” Bellamy nods to Steve, ignoring Jasper until he starts acting like a human. “I’ll see you later.”</p><p>“Take care of him” Steve frowns, nodding at Jasper. “He’s a liability.”</p><p>“Will do,” Bellamy agrees with a tug of the reindeer’s reins and they’re off. He doesn’t know why, but he always holds his breath as they get further into the sky. The night sky’s cold but perfectly clear, stars dotted around them in the night sky. He finds that he enjoys having Jasper with him, as much as he enjoys the night, it’s nice to have someone to chat with as he goes. When his map glows and indicates that they’re coming to the first location, he turns his hourglass, and the world stills around them.</p><p>He guides the reindeers down to the ground where the map tells him and digs through the sack for his first present.</p><p>The house is decorated beautifully, a pile of presents already under the tree. He nestles the small box deep under the tree, behind the rest of the presents.</p><p>As much as he enjoys seeing the beautiful decorations and the piles of presents, his favourite are the houses that are sparsely decorated, trees have handmade paper ornaments and popcorn garland. The houses that he knows have very little to give, but still there’s a small pile of presents under the tree. He knows that parents skimp and scrape for months to buy those presents, work overtime and any odd jobs they can just to make that one special day memorable.</p><p>It strikes him more when he ends up in his childhood home. It’s decorated differently now, the wallpaper and furniture updated, but it’s a small house in a bad area, it was never going to turn into anything spectacular. It looks like he remembers on Christmas, though. A desperate attempt to cling to the holiday spirits to try and bring smiles to little faces who don’t know any different.</p><p>He hides the present away, under the tiny tree in the corner. It’s always the last present to be opened, parents will give each other a questioning look and assume it was the other who brought it, maybe as a joke, with <em> from Santa </em> scrawled on the label. Tired parents will think maybe they forgot they bought it, or blame it on relatives they’ll later forget to ask. No matter what they think, it brings that little bit of extra magic to a child’s morning, and that’s what matters to Bellamy.</p><p>The houses around there are all pretty much the same, tiny trees and sad lights, the same that have been put up for years because they can’t afford new ones - they’ll be put up for years to come, too. Until they no longer work and someone has to work extra hours just to brighten up the house for a couple of weeks. </p><p>He pauses when he comes to one of his students home, he <em> knows </em> Ethan doesn’t believe in Santa anymore, he’s a stroppy teenager at best, but he has a little sister who has a gappy smile and two brothers who look like they’re more than trouble. </p><p>Ethan’s standing protectively next to his sister in a picture hung over the fireplace, scowling at the camera. He reminds him of himself at that age, with the weight of the world on his shoulders. It’s a stark reminder that the kids he teaches don’t always have easy lives - he certainly didn’t. Looking at the small pile of presents, he wonders how hard his parents had to work for this, but more so, the disappointment when he watches the happy christmas films and sees the piles of presents under grand christmas trees that the kids he teaches will probably never see. </p><p>He reminds himself to be extra kind in January. If deadlines aren't met then so be it, but he can bet that Ethans working a weekend job on top of looking after his siblings. </p><p>“So,” Jasper starts as they make their way to the next house. “It’s going well with your girlfriend?”</p><p>Bellamy sighs. “It’s going well,” he confirms, “she’s great.”</p><p>“Yeah she is” Jasper agrees dreamily, Bellamy frowns.</p><p>“How do you know?”</p><p>“Well, Doucette keeps tabs on you throughout the year, he updates us.” Jasper shrugs like it’s no big deal.</p><p>“Do you gossip about me?” Bellamy demands, the tips of Jaspers’ ears turn pink, and it’s not from the cold.</p><p>“I – sometimes, maybe,” he stutters in response, Bellamy groans in frustration. He loves this part of his life, really he does. But the rest of the year he just wants to be normal. He’s got a normal job, a normal relationship, a – somewhat – normal sister, he doesn’t want to be thinking about being watched every time he does something.</p><p>“Well, I’m going to have to tell Steve not to do that.” Jasper pouts at that, Bellamy can't help but roll his eyes. “Sorry to ruin your entertainment for the year.”</p><p>Jasper shrugs half-heartedly, Bellamy just grits his teeth and doesn’t say any more on the matter. They’re not far from Clarke’s apartment, he’s got a drop just next door to it. He takes in his present to slip under the tree of a lavish apartment, it looks like a grotto in there, he’s always impressed when he sees homes decorated like that.</p><p>He’s got plenty of time, he’s never back before the hourglass runs out, so he makes his way up the Clarkes apartment and slips inside silently. Although he knows she can't hear him, times moving much too slow for that, he’s still careful and quiet as he puts her present under the tree. This isn’t from <em> Santa, </em> it’s from him. The Bellamy that Clarke knows and loves. He sneaks towards the bedroom and opens the door quietly, Clarke’s fast asleep as he knew she would be, there’s a glass of wine on the bedside table and a scattering of used tissues with mascara stains on them.</p><p>He feels beyond awful that he left her today – he knows that needs must, and she’s spent the day with her mom, but still he should have been there when she got home.</p><p>There’s going to come a point in their relationship where she wants him there on Christmas Eve, she’ll want his comfort as much as he wants to give it. The relationship’s still new this year, and maybe it won't be next year, but at some point, he’s not going to have an excuse as to why he can’t be there, and it’s going to break his heart, and possibly their relationship.</p><p>He sneaks a kiss on her head and pulls the blanket over her shoulders, she gets cold when she sleeps, but somehow always manages to push the covers down. Running his fingers across her temple, he brushes the hair out of her face and smooths out the frown lines there. Even in her sleep she doesn’t look restful tonight. He’ll skip out of Octavia’s early and spend the evening with her, it’s the least he can do.</p><p>Footsteps behind him make him jump, he turns quickly to see Jasper standing here, a ridiculous grin on his face.</p><p>“Jasper what the hell?” he hisses. “I thought you were here to rob her.”</p><p>“Sorry,” he shrugs but doesn’t look sorry at all. “It’s just too sweet, though. You bringing her a present and making sure she’s okay when she’s asleep even though she won’t see you, you’re like Edward Cullen.”</p><p>“I don’t know who that is, but you shouldn’t be in here. God, can’t I have one private moment with my girlfriend?”</p><p>Jasper puts his hands up in surrender and backs out of the room. With a sigh, Bellamy presses a kiss to her hair one last time before carrying on. Jasper’s hovering in the kitchen, it’s an open plan layout so he can see all of the apartment from where he is.</p><p>“You shouldn’t be snooping,” he points out, but once again Jasper doesn’t seem bothered by boundaries.</p><p>“I just wanted to see who had captured your heart is all.” He says it like it's some cheesy Hallmark movie he used to watch with Octavia. “Look at this picture, you’re so cute together.” He gestures to a picture of them cozied up on the beach together one night around a bonfire. That had been a good day, spent with their friends playing games on the beach and throwing Clarke over his shoulder to get her into the sea.</p><p>They’d had a barbeque and toasted marshmallows around the fire. Cuddled up in the corner with a blanket wrapped around their shoulders, he quietly and shyly told Clarke that he loves her for the first time, and immediately wanted the ground to swallow him whole. But by some miracle she’d said it back with a smile and every worry on his shoulders had melted away.</p><p>“Come on,” Bellamy snaps, jerking his head towards the door. “We have a job to do, one that doesn’t include you moseying around my girlfriend's apartment.”</p><p>“I know you mean to sound aggressive, but I get butterflies every time you call her your girlfriend.”</p><p>He finally gets Jasper out of the apartment and back to the sleigh. The reindeers are munching on carrots left in the road, he’s got a collection of cookies in his bag he’ll hand out to the workers when he gets back, he can’t eat more than a few in a night, not after the first year where he’d gorged himself too early and ended up nearly being sick in the sleigh.</p><p>Jasper, on the other hand, has no problems dipping into the collection, Bellamy genuinely wonders how he stays so skinny, or how he can eat so much in general.</p><p>Actually, he doesn’t want to know how he eats so much, he’s got a good idea already.</p><p>The rest of the night luckily goes without a hitch, and they make it back to base as the sun’s rising and making the snow sparkle. It truly is a magical place. He knows as much as Clarke dislikes Christmas, she loves the snow and winter, and he’d love to bring her here someday.</p><p>Maybe.</p><p>He gets a loud cheer and a round of applause when he gets back; around the world, children are starting to wake up, the houses he went to first are probably already away and excitedly tearing away wrapping paper.</p><p>He collapses on Octavia’s sofa early Christmas morning, when he’s been home and showered. All he wants is sleep, but he knows better than anyone that Octavia will not let him sleep until presents are open and dinner has been eaten.</p><p>“Here,” he mutters from where he’s face down on the sofa, passing a box in what he assumes is Octavia’s general direction. It’s perfectly wrapped with a bow in a way he’s never achieved. There’s <em> a From Santa </em> label on it that makes her snort before unceremoniously ripping the paper away.</p><p>“Oh my god,” she laughs, “Barbie’s ultimate kitchen, I was desperate for one of these when I was younger.”</p><p>“I remember,” Bellamy mutters, “you wouldn’t shut up about it.”</p><p>“This better not be my only present,” Octavia grumbles. He still can’t bring himself to look up.</p><p>“It’s not,” he assures her.</p><p>He has to admit, for as chaotic as their lives were growing up, and as wild as Octavia was as a teenager, he’s proud of who she’s become. He’s not just saying that because she makes a damn good Christmas dinner. She’s got a good career, and a beautiful house. As much as it begrudges him to admit, she’s found something special in her boyfriend, Lincoln.</p><p>They don’t talk about Bellamy punching him when they first met – let bygones be bygones. They also have to keep around for secret keeping purposes, since Octavia can’t keep her mouth shut and told Lincoln that Bellamy was Santa the second she’d got off the phone from him.</p><p>They exchange presents when Bellamy’s woken up a bit, all sitting in front of an open fire with the perfectly decorated tree that Lincoln cut down himself.</p><p>This is what he wants with Clarke, the house filled with love and happy Christmases. Someday soon, they’ll have that, if only he can think of an excuse why he has to run away every Christmas Eve and not return until Christmas morning.</p><p>After dinner, for the first time he leaves early. Octavia understands though, she smiles at him and hugs him tight. After handing him a Tupperware of leftovers for Clarke, she sends him on his way.</p><p>“Hey,” Clarke grins when she opens her apartment door, ice cream tub in hand. “I didn’t expect to see you until tomorrow.”</p><p>“I came early.” He kisses her cheek as he slides past her into the apartment. “Please tell me you’ve not sat around in your pyjamas eating ice cream all day.”</p><p>“No.” She rolls her eyes, but puts the ice cream back in the freezer. “Only since I got back from my mom’s. I’ve also been drinking wine.”</p><p>“Well far be it from me to stop this festive evening. Octavia sent actual food, enough to feed us for the next week.”</p><p>She smirks and wraps her arms around his neck, standing on her tiptoes to kiss him. “Does that mean we don’t have to leave the apartment for another week?” she simpers.</p><p>He hums in agreement against her lips, holding onto her tight.</p><p>They get around to the leftovers eventually, and finally, as the clock strikes midnight and Clarke’s asleep on his shoulder, another Christmas is over.</p><p>*</p><p>He happily forgets about Christmas as the weather turns warmer. The next few months are filled with as much happiness as the previous year, he can’t help but fall in love a little bit more each day.</p><p>They take their first vacation together, and as they sit on the beach at sunset, it’s the first time a marriage proposal comes into his mind. He doesn’t propose, not yet anyway. There’s still things he has to tell her, and he doesn’t think she’s ready to hear them just yet. He still may have at least another year of secrecy before he can even think about bringing it up.</p><p>That was his hope, anyway.</p><p>That changes when Lincoln pulls him aside at dinner one night while Clarke and Octavia are gossiping about...something. He doesn't think he’s ever seen Lincoln nervous before, but now he’s sweating and practically shaking. </p><p>“Is there something wrong?” Bellamy asks slowly, slightly suspicious. He’s pulled him into the spare room, and now rooting around in the drawers. </p><p>“No, not wrong exactly,” Lincoln replies, apparently finding what he’s looking for. He passes him a blue velvet box with a solitaire engagement ring inside. It’s exactly what Octavia would pick, he’s not convinced that Octavia didn't pick it, actually. </p><p>“It’s beautiful,” Bellamy blinks, “but it’s not really my style. I don’t think it’ll fit either.”</p><p>“Hilarious,” Lincoln deadpans. “I wanted to ask your - not permission, Octavia would kill me for that, but your blessing. I know we didn’t get off to a great start but I really do love your sister, and I’d like to say I’d take good care of her but she’s perfectly good at doing that herself. But I’ll love her, every single day.”</p><p>“You don’t have to convince me that you love her, Lincoln,” Bellamy smiles. “You’ve proved it enough times. You have my blessing.”</p><p>“Oh, thank god,” Lincoln sighs in relief, it’s amazing that a man like Lincoln is ever scared of anything, let alone him or his sister - well, maybe his sister, actually. </p><p>“So, when are you asking her?”</p><p>Lincoln's eyes widen momentarily in alarm, and Bellamy wonders if he’s already asked her and realised he should have asked for his blessing first.</p><p>“That’s actually something I needed to tell you about. My family has a house in Barbados, and we’re all planning on going there for Christmas. I was going to ask her on Christmas Day.”</p><p>“Oh, that’s perfect.” Bellamy can’t understand why he looks so concerned about that, sure he’d miss Octavia over Christmas, but he’s sure he can live without her for a good cause just this one year. </p><p>“Really, what about your...thing?”</p><p>“My thing?”</p><p>Lincoln stares at him like he’s grown another head. “Your Santa thing?”</p><p>Bellamy snorts, while it’s nice that Lincoln’s thinking about that, he doesn't expect them to stick around just for him, they can’t stop living their life because he killed Santa - he still feels awful about that. </p><p>“It’s fine,” Bellamy shrugs, “you don’t have to be here for that.”</p><p>“I thought we were your excuse to Clarke.”</p><p>Ah, Clarke. Lincoln had a point there. Their ‘Christmas Eve tradition’ was his excuse not to be around until at least Christmas Day.</p><p>“Clarke goes to her mom’s Christmas Eve, she doesn’t want me there. Really, go to Barbados and get engaged, I’m happy for you.” He shakes Lincoln's hand maybe a little harder than necessary, old habits die hard. </p><p>Still, he can’t keep the grin off his face driving home, it was hard not to grin every time he looked at Octavia for the rest of the evening. Octavia deserves this, someone who loves her unconditionally and stays with her despite the scars of their childhood. </p><p>“What are you grinning about? You look like a kid on Christmas morning,” Clarke grins on the drive home. She has no idea how ironic that sentence was. </p><p>“Can you keep a secret?” That piques Clarkes interest, she nods excitedly and turns in her seat. “Lincoln's surprising Octavia with a holiday to Barbados, and an engagement ring.”</p><p>Clarke squeals in delight and laughs, he wonders briefly what her reaction would be like if he proposed. Not yet, he reminds himself. Someday, but not yet. </p><p> </p><p>It’s always in the back of mind, but mainly he tries to forget about it so he doesn’t give the game away to Octavia. He’s glad when they’re getting on the plane at the start of December, not jealous at all of them spending a month doing nothing but eating and sunbathing. </p><p>He doesn't mention Christmas to Clarke, as per last year's routine. He does decorate her apartment, but only sparsely. She doesn’t mention the decorations, but at least she smiles when she sees them this year, and she seems happier, he’s cautiously optimistic that she’s handling Christmas a little better.</p><p>One night when they’re at his house, Clarke’s in a surprisingly good mood considering she had lunch with her mother today. She joins him in the kitchen, taking a knife from the drawer and helping chop the vegetables. </p><p>“So,” Clarke starts, “my mom and I were talking about Christmas.”</p><p>“Oh yeah?” He tries not to sound too enthusiastic about it, but with her good mood and her <em> slight </em> enthusiasm about Christmas, he thinks she might finally be coming around to the idea. He hopes so, he hates to see her so sad at Christmas. </p><p>“Yeah,” she takes a deep breath, pausing her hands, “every year we sit around mourning and it’s not what my dad would have wanted, he would have wanted us to carry on with life, not sitting around - especially at Christmas.”</p><p>“That’s great,” he grins, “I hate seeing you sad at Christmas.”</p><p>She smiles tightly and nods, maybe she’s not completely sold on the idea. It’s a difficult one, he’s still sad around the anniversary of his mom's death, but it’s a sadness he’s learnt to live with. </p><p>“On Christmas Eve we’re having a dinner, nothing big or overly fancy, though knowing my mom both of those could end up going out the window. But it was actually my mom’s idea to invite you, she wants to meet you.”</p><p>He wasn't sure if the day he was introduced to Clarke’s mom would actually come, they had a complicated relationship, and he was more than happy to keep out of it until Clarke was ready for that. But now it appears they’re both ready for it, Bellamy’s the one who’s not ready. </p><p>“I - go to Octavia’s on Christmas Eve, it’s tradition,” He stutters and trips over his words. it’s a poor excuse, but it’s the best he could think of on the spot. Clarke doesn’t buy it though, by the looks she’s giving him.</p><p>“Octavia’s in Barbados,” she points out. She’s right, Octavia is in Barbados. He took her to the airport with Clarke. How could he have forgotten about that?</p><p>“She is,” Bellamy agrees slowly, now he’s backed into a corner. He could always just agree now and pretend to be sick on the day, but what kind of impression does that give? That he’s not interested, and now Clarke’s mothers going to hate him and he’ll never be able to rectify that. Clarke’s staring at him expectantly, she knows there’s something up, and he’s out of excuses.</p><p>“If you don’t want to meet her, all you have to do is say,” she snaps. He’s really in the dog house here. </p><p>“No, I do!” he assures her hastily. “I really, really do. It’s just, Christmas is tricky, you know?”</p><p>“No,” she blinks. “I don’t know. Octavia isn't here, you don’t have anywhere else to go, what’s tricky about it?”</p><p>Apart from his previous engagement where he spends the entire of Christmas Eve chasing midnight around the world? Nothing. </p><p>He can’t tell her that, though. She’ll think he’s crazy - it does sound crazy, even to him after all this time. There’s no way he can explain it to her without her dropping him like a hot potato</p><p>“You know what? Forget it,” she snaps, slamming the knife on the chopping board. Bellamy winces, he’s half convinced she imagined that was his head in that moment. They’ve never had a fight before, never over anything petty, and certainly not this big. He can’t do this without looking like a massive jerk.</p><p>“Clarke please, I want to explain, I really do, it’s just tricky”</p><p>“Tricky,” she snorts in disbelief. “What’s tricky about it? You don’t want to meet my mom, you can say it.”</p><p>She says it like a challenge. He wants nothing more than to tell her the truth, obviously he does. But how?</p><p>“That’s not the case at all,” he tries, but he knows that’s not enough to convince her. There’s no way there is, but what can he tell her? She crosses her arm and glares, waiting for an explanation. He’s going to have to bite the bullet and just tell her. </p><p>“Clarke,” he sighs, and with a scoff, she storms from the kitchen and grabs her purse, ready to leave unless he can come up with a plausible excuse. Being Santa - although true - would not go down very well right now. </p><p>Abruptly, she turns on her heel to face him, he’s never seen her angry before, sad sure, but never because of him. So this is breaking his heart. “I know I say a lot of bad things about my mom, but you could at least make an effort, it’s a big thing that she invited you in the first place.”</p><p>Of course he knows that, he knows how strained the relationship is at the best of times, he’s brought up meeting her before, but Clarke’s always said it’s not the right time, so he’s left it there. The one time he actually has a chance to do it is the one day he physically can’t make it. </p><p>Her hands on the door handle, she might leave for good if he doesn't do something.</p><p>“I’m Santa” he suddenly blurts out. Her hand freezes and she slowly turns to look at him in unamused confusion. </p><p>“You’re...what?”</p><p>“Santa,” he confirms with a wince. It sounds completely unbelievable. After all this time, it shouldn’t be but here they are. </p><p>“Like, a mall Santa?”</p><p>“I really wish but no, the real Santa, the <em> go around to children’s houses and leave presents while they sleep </em> Santa.” He winces, that was the least tactful way he could have possibly said that. Now she’s just going to think he’s gone crazy. </p><p>“I don’t go to Octavia’s Christmas Eve, I used to but I don’t anymore. It’s a long story and if you’ll just let me explain - ”</p><p>“Explain?” she laughs humorlessly, he’s really in hot water here. “I don’t want you to explain whatever the hell that was, I want you to - actually no, I’m just going to go. I have no response to that.”</p><p>“Clarke please - ” the door slamming cuts him off, but he probably deserves that. As much as he really wants to go after her, he knows it's probably best to let her have some time to cool off, although that’s not going to make her believe him, he can’t have this conversation with her while she’s already angry about him snubbing her Christmas Eve invite.</p><p>He doesn’t sleep that night, he paces and tries to do some marking before the Christmas break, but none of it seems to take his mind off it. So instead he tries to make a plan of what exactly he’s going to tell her.</p><p>It’s not going well. There’s no way to explain this to her without sounding like he has a really overactive imagination. He didn’t believe it until he saw it for himself.</p><p>That does give him an idea, though. </p><p>He leaves it a couple of days, he doesn’t hear from Clarke at all, and while it hurts, it’s understandable. When work finishes on Friday, he gets everything ready and hopes to god that she agrees to talk. </p><p>She does luckily, the time away seems to have done some good. But she does give him a look that almost strikes him down at the spot when he opens the door, so he can guess he’s not forgiven. </p><p>“I wasn’t going to come” She confesses, “I honestly didn't want anything to do with whatever weird thing you’ve got going on but then - god, it’s been two years Bellamy, you’ve been asking to meet my mom for ages and now you turn around and try to lie your way out of doing it? Please, help me understand that.”</p><p>“I can’t explain it in a way that you’ll believe, I thought I’d just show you instead.”</p><p>She raises an eyebrow at him, this wasn’t going to be easy, but he loves her, and he had to tell her at some point, he wasn't always going to get away with it. The key’s on the table, Steve is absolutely going to kill him but he doesn’t care. Maybe they’ll fire him as Santa - but that’s wishful thinking. </p><p>“Here.” He passes her the sweater of hers he found upstairs, it’s going to be cold where they’re going, especially if Steve doesn’t let them in. </p><p>Clarke just stares at the sweater. “Are you kicking me out?”</p><p>“No, god no,” he practically shouts. “It’s cold where we’re going, I promise I’m not kicking you out.”</p><p>With a resigned sigh she pulls the sweater over her head and gives him an expectant look. He picks up his key carefully, there’s no way to prepare her for what’s to come, so he decides that he won’t try. Throw her into the deep end, it’s how he had to do it.</p><p>“This is going to make you feel sick,” he warns, holding the key out to her. She hesitates, looking torn between disbelief and curiosity. Eventually, the curiosity gets the better of her and he keeps hold of the other end of the key. </p><p>There’s a familiar sound of wind rushing past his ears and the world twisting and blurring past his eyes. He tries to stay focussed on Clarke, she winces and squeezes her eyes shut, he knows the feeling. </p><p>Their feet land firmly in soft snow.He grips Clarke’s elbows to steady her as she tips forward, going pale. </p><p>“Sorry,” he winces, “there really is no way to explain this, it’s better if you see it for yourself.”</p><p>Clarke looks around in utter bewilderment, and maybe a little bit of horror. Perhaps he should have warned her after all. It’s dark here, only illuminated by the street lamps and the glow of the houses in the villages. His cottage is illuminated too, he imagines it’s madness in there, him being here isn’t going to make that any better. </p><p>“What the hell’s going on?” she whispers in disbelief, looking frantically in every direction. Prancer strolls over, happy to see him and nudges Clarke’s arm for attention. She jumps a mile in his direction and he has to reach out to catch her before she falls in the snow. “What kind of horse is that?”</p><p>“Clarke, it’s a reindeer” he sighs, winding an arm around her waist to keep her steady, the other reaching out to stroke Prancer's head. “His name’s Prancer, he’s my favourite - don’t tell the others though.”</p><p>Clarke doesn’t look amused in the slightest. She’s still bewildered as she watches Bellamy with Prancer. He still hasn’t really explained where they are, but then, he doesn’t really know where they are, all he knows is this is where he comes every Christmas Eve and leaves Vhristmas morning. </p><p>He lets her adjust to the outside before he shows her whatever the hell’s going on inside, and introduces her to Steve - <em> that’s </em> going to be a fun meeting. He’s not going to be impressed in the slightest that he’s told her, but he can’t keep it from her forever. Especially when he plans on spending forever with her. </p><p>“It’s a real reindeer,” she mutters, shaking her head. “Does it fly?”</p><p>He pauses for a moment, wondering how best to explain it to her. “Only on Christmas Eve, I can’t really explain it, but there’s magic here, it’s strongest on Christmas Eve so we make the most of it.”</p><p>Clarke blinks a couple of times, processing what he’s just told her. He didn’t believe it the first few times, either. Instead of answering, she puts her hand out to tentatively stroke Prancer’s head. He nudges her happily, nuzzling into the attention, and Clarke lets out a laugh that finally sounds genuine, albeit a little manic. </p><p>“How exactly did we get here?” she finally asks, he’s still got an arm wound around her waist, and she hasn’t tried to get away from his grasp so he’s happy about that at least. </p><p>“It’s a sort of portal, there’s a weak spot in the - ” he cuts himself off at the look she’s giving him. Baby steps. “Magic.”</p><p>“Magic’s not - ”</p><p>“Real?” comes from a voice behind them. Bellamy’s stomach drops as Steve steps out of the cottage. He should have known he’d be here the second they landed. “Of course it’s real. It’s always been real. What used to be considered witchcraft is now parlour tricks, just because you've become accustomed to something doesn't make it any less powerful.”</p><p>“I - ” Clarke starts, but cuts herself off as she blinks in disbelief, he sees what she sees then, the fluorescent lights and the madness behind the door of the cottage. “I don’t - ”</p><p>“I’m Doucette.” He sticks his hand out to Clarke, who shakes it tentatively. “I’m the conductor here.”</p><p>“I call him Steve” Bellamy whispers loudly, Steve’s jaw tightens and there might be a hint of a smile of Clarke’s face.</p><p>“Clarke Griffin,” she replies. Steve drops her hand with a grimace. </p><p>“I know, come in before you both freeze to death. It’s too short notice to find another Santa and I am not letting Jasper do it.” He turns on his heel and marches back to the cottage, leaving Bellamy and Clarke to follow. </p><p>Bellamy pulls Clarke with him, taking her out of the cold. At least it’s warm inside, if not a little loud. There’s a flurry of excitement when everyone notices he’s there, it’s nice to be greeted like that, it’s almost like he’s a celebrity. </p><p>They’re more interested in Clarke though, once they get over the surprise of him being there a couple of weeks early.</p><p>Suddenly he’s no longer the center of attention, but honestly he’s fine with it. He never really enjoyed it anyway, it also kind of proves that he is who he says he is. Clarke’s just staring, baffled and disorientated. There’s a wave of attention on her though, and it must be overwhelming. He tries to introduce her to everyone as best he can, but she looks like she’s seen a ghost.</p><p>“I thought it was a cottage,” she whispers. “It looks like a factory.”</p><p>“It’s not a factory,” Steve snaps from in front of them. “We wrap presents and distribute them.”</p><p>“So you’re like a Christmas Amazon?” Clarke questions, there’s a hint of humour there that makes Steve splutter, but Bellamy’s proud, and at least she seems to be coming around to the idea. It’s pretty hard to deny at this point, as outlandish as it seems, it’s real and palpable when you’re walking around and seeing the proof for yourself. </p><p>They shut the noise out when they get into the office. Steve is giving him a judgmental look, but Bellmay just shrugs, what else was he supposed to do? He wasn’t throwing his relationship away over this. </p><p>“I expected at least another couple of years,” Steve grumbles. “I didn’t think you’d let the cat out of the bag this soon.”</p><p>“I was kind of backed into a corner,” Bellamy huffs, but he’s not all that sorry about it. Clarke looks like she can finally breathe at least, though she still looks confused and a little frightened. He takes her hand and squeezes in reassurance and smiles tentatively. </p><p>“Okay, get your questions out,” Steve sighs, taking a seat behind his desk. There’s two seats instead of the normal one, so he saw them coming. </p><p>Clarke however, just blinks and mutters “I don’t even know what to ask, is this even real?”</p><p>Bellamy guides her to one of the seats, he feels mildly guilty for just dumping this all on her like this, but there was no other way to do it, if he’d have tried to explain it fully she would have run a mile. It’s already happened once, and he’s not losing her. </p><p>“It’s real,” he tells her gently, pulling his chair so he can sit closer to her. “I know it’s a lot to take in, but please just bear with me.”</p><p>She nods slowly, looking around the maps and lists around the room. The office is well organised, there’s never a detail out of place. Bellamy always feels sort of guilty, he only turns up once a year and takes all the credit for the hard work everyone else does. He knows Steve barely takes a day off, his mind must constantly be ticking over. </p><p>“Santa’s real? You’re Santa?”</p><p>“I’m Santa,” he confirms with a shaky smile. She doesn’t smile back though, he’s starting to get a little worried. </p><p>“Have you always been Santa? Is it like a - I don’t know - monarchy like thing, are you in line to be Santa?”</p><p>“Not exactly,” he coughs, Steve’s staring at him judgmentally.</p><p>“Why don’t you tell her how you became Santa, Bellamy?” Steve smirks, of course he wants to tell her the one thing that makes him look like the worst possible person.</p><p>“I hit the old Santa with my car,” he mutters and Clarke’s eyes widen comically - well, it would be comical if the situation was any less mortifying. </p><p>“You did what to Santa?” she blinks in disbelief. </p><p>Bellamy huffs, he can feel heat rising in his face. “I hit him with my car. It wasn’t on purpose, I don't even know what he was doing in the middle of the road, it was foggy and dark, I can’t be held responsible.”</p><p>Well, he can be held responsible, he <em> is </em>being held responsible, once a year, every year. He doesn’t make eye contact with Steve, Bellamy definitely wasn’t the first choice for Santa, but he’s the one they’re stuck with. They could replace him, they probably should replace him, but for some reason they won’t. Maybe it’s because he loves the job, he may not be the best at it, but he loves the joy and the magic of it. </p><p>“So, you hit Santa with your car then you...became Santa?” Clarke asks slowly.</p><p>“Well someone had to take over, Santa dying the day before Christmas Eve was most inconvenient,” Steve sniffs, making Bellamy wince. He doesn’t have to put it so harshly, it’s not like he planned it to take over. It wasn’t an assassination.</p><p>“You killed Santa? I thought he was just badly injured or something.” There's a slight note of hysteria to Clarke’s tone, which he can understand, he wasn’t exactly calm when he found out, either. </p><p>“I didn’t mean to.”</p><p>“Regardless.” Clarke shakes her head, clearing it for a moment, “I don’t understand, how is it possible?”</p><p>He looks to Steve, not sure how much information he can actually give away, although at this point it seems fruitless to hold back, she’s already seen too much. Not that anyone would believe her if she suddenly decided to put this all over Twitter. </p><p>Steve just shrugs though, they’re already this deep, she may as well know everything.</p><p>“It’s long, what exactly do you want to know?” he sighs, they could be in for a long night. It’s not like when he came and got a whistle-stop tour before being shoved into a sleigh.</p><p>“How do you get around the entire world in one night and not get seen? Logistically it’s impossible.” She’s much too logical for her own good, he loves her for it though. </p><p>“Magic” he shrugs, “I’ve got an hourglass that slows time down, it only works for 24 hours so we pick our time slots carefully.”</p><p>Clarke nods, she might actually be coming around to the magic thing. It’s a lot to process, he knows that better than anyone. </p><p>“Okay, how do you know who to deliver presents to? I don’t remember getting presents from Santa. Do you have a naughty and nice list, do you check it twice?”</p><p>Steve coughs, interrupting them which he’s grateful for, since he doesn’t really have anything to do with the lists, he just takes the glory. </p><p>“<em> I </em> have a list,” he sniffs, “and I check it multiple times. The naughty and nice list is a myth, we have a database that tells us when children stop believing in Santa, that’s when they stop receiving presents. You stopped believing when you were four years old, you probably have no recollection of any of it.”</p><p>“How do you - actually nevermind, I don’t want to know,” she mutters, then leans back silently, deep in thought. </p><p>Maybe he’s lost her, even if she does believe him, will she want to stay with him after this? It’s all probably a bit too crazy for her, he knows it’s almost a bit too crazy for him. Really, he can’t expect her to stay, he can hope and pray, he doesn't want her to go anywhere, but he knows it’s up to her. Once she knows the truth, he’ll respect her decision to leave. </p><p>Suddenly, Clarke laughs, loud and harsh, Bellamy’s a little worried she’s cracked. </p><p>“You’re Santa. You’re actually Santa. Oh god, do you wear the red suit and everything? Is this why you were so annoyed by it?”</p><p>“I abolished the red suit,” he mutters, “It was uncomfortable and impractical. I’m not wearing it just to keep up an image, no one even sees me.”</p><p>It makes Clarke laugh a little harder, he’s broken her. She was perfectly fine and normal before she came here and now he’s broken her. That was going to make for an interesting first meeting with her mother, explaining why her daughter bursts out laughing at random intervals.</p><p>“Are you alright?” he asks cautiously, but really, he’s a little frightened for her answer. </p><p>“Fine,” she finally sighs. “I’m fine. I’m either going to wake up in my bed after a really weird dream or you’re actually Santa.”</p><p>He smiles slowly. “I’m afraid it’s the first one.”</p><p>She calms finally and grins at him and says “I don’t know how I’m going to explain to my mom that you’re not coming to Christmas Eve dinner.”</p><p>Sagging in relief, he grins back and shakes his head. “i’m sure we’ll think of something,” he assures her, reaching for her hand and squeezing. Maybe he can meet her beforehand, or after his <em> duties, </em> but either way, they’re doing this, moving forward with his biggest and strangest secret out there.</p><p>The moment is interrupted by a pile of paperwork slamming on the desk in front of them. “We’re glad to have you on board, Miss Griffin.” Steve smiles tightly, eyes narrowing. “There’s just a couple of things for you to sign before we can let you go.”</p><p>10 minutes later and after a stack of NDA’s have been signed - who knew being Santa came with so many legal disclaimers, or that Steve had that kind of paperwork tucked away - they’re outside. Jasper’s told them about his new moonshine and more importantly, the girl in his college that he has a <em> major </em> crush on. </p><p>They’re finally alone, snow falling softly around them and snowflakes clinging to Clarke’s hair and sweater. The tip of her nose is red from the cold, but there’s a happy flush to her cheeks and she’s beaming up at him like never before.  </p><p>He hopes that once the bizarreness and craziness of her new found knowledge has settled down, she can find happiness in christmas once again. He hates that she’s sad at what is supposed to be the happiest time of year. He hopes he’s made the sadness quell even just for a little bit.</p><p>“So, thoughts?” he asks cautiously, not sure he even wants to know what she’s thinking right now, but he supposes it's better to get it all out in the open, that is why they're there, after all. </p><p>Clarke laughs though and shakes her head. “It’s crazy and completely unbelievable but for some reason, it feels real. Probably the amount of paperwork that comes with it.”</p><p>“But you believe me, right?” he smirks cheekily, he knows she does, otherwise she wouldn't be standing here beaming like she is. </p><p>“I believe you.” She hooks her hands behind his neck, they’re freezing but he doesn’t mind. It all worked out well enough in the end. “It’s strange but I think my life could have used a little of that, it was all too normal for a while.”</p><p>There’s a warmth in his heart and a tenderness to her smile that he’s never seen before. He ducks his head and presses his lips to hers. In the glow of the tiny village and snow falling around them, he’s got the girl and the love of his life, he finally knows the true meaning of a christmas miracle.</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>10 years later - December 23rd </b>
</p><p> </p><p>Madi jumps excitedly on the sofa where Clarke’s on the phone to her mother. She rolls her eyes at him and pulls Madi to sit on her lap. </p><p>“In a minute,” Clarke whispers, kissing Madi’s unruly hair. Madi huffs but leans her head on Clarke’s shoulder anyway.</p><p>“No, mom, it’s fine I promise” Clarke sighs, giving Bellamy a <em> look. </em> “You can facetime Madi on Christmas morning, just go and enjoy your honeymoon.” She rolls her eyes again at Bellamy, all he can do is shrug. “I’m sure, honestly it’s fine - Madi, tell grandma it’s fine if she goes on vacation over Christmas.”</p><p>“It’s fine,” Madi shouts, as if she was aiming for them to hear in their house the other side of the state. “I don’t care anyway.”</p><p>Bellamy winces and Clarke groans, they must talk to her about having some tact. </p><p>“See, she doesnt care - no she cares about you, but she’s five mom, she literally just wants presents. Now go before you miss your flight, we’ll phone you on Christmas Day, okay? Love you - Madi tell grandma and grandpa Marcus you love them.”</p><p>“Love you” Madi shouts, loud enough for the rest of the world to hear. Clarke hangs up quickly and throws her phone to the other end of the sofa. </p><p>“You,” she playfully growls, tickling Madi. “Stop shouting down the phone and don’t tell Grandma you don’t care, it offends her.” Madi just giggles though and tries to slither out of Clarke’s grasp.</p><p>In the 10 years since he told Clarke he was Santa, he’s never been happier. They’ve got married, bought a house, both had promotions, and the best thing he never thought he’d get - Madi making an appearance after two years of trying. They were told time and time again that things like this take time, but with every month that passed and seeing Clarke’s disappointed face in the mornings, it was hard not to think it was never going to happen.</p><p>But it did happen, after the longest 9 months of his life and a difficult pregnancy, Madi rang in the New Year with the most joyous screaming he's ever heard, and he wouldn't change any of it for the world now. </p><p>Now there’s another one on the way, and he feels like he might burst from joy.</p><p>“Last minute regrets about their Christmas honeymoon?” he questions sympathetically.</p><p>Abby got married out of the blue, she and Marcus had been together for years, since before Madi was born but it still managed to shock them when they announced they were getting married - the week before christmas. It gave them exactly two weeks to get everything ready, with a 6 months pregnant Clarke and an overly excited Madi. Bellamy just wanted a quiet life outside of Christmas Eve. </p><p>“She’s worried she’s missing Madi’s last christmas as an only child. She didn’t have any problems working Christmas when I was younger,” Clarke grumbles, but there’s a smile there anyway. “But as Madi very tactfully pointed out - she doesn’t care.”</p><p>Madi grins cheekily, he’s not sure where she gets this mischievous streak from, but he hopes she never loses it. She’s brightened up his life like he never could have imagined. </p><p>“Okay,” Clarke claps, “bed time, go brush your teeth and daddy’s going to read you a story.”</p><p>Jumping up, Madi side-eyes him mischievously then makes a run for the stairs. Clarke quirks an eyebrow at him and says “better go make sure she’s not flooding the toilet - again.”</p><p>With a sigh, Bellamy follows Madi upstairs, but she’s brushing her teeth nicely, it’s too close to Christmas for her to play up. They hope anyway. </p><p>“Do you know what tomorrow is?” He whispers when Madi’s in bed, snuggled up beside about to read <em> ‘twas the night before Christmas.  </em></p><p>She flashes a toothy grin and sleepily murmurs, “Christmas Eve.”</p><p>“And what happens on Christmas Eve?”</p><p>“Daddy takes presents to all the children.” She’s getting excited now, it probably wasn’t the best idea to bring this up at bedtime, ”And me and mommy get to go see auntie O and Lincoln, then I go to bed again and it’s Christmas.”</p><p>“Yeah,” he murmurs softly, “It’s Christmas.” Someday, she’s going to outgrow the magic of Christmas, her friends won’t believe in Santa and she probably won’t either. He and Clarke haven’t discussed what happens then, whether or not she’ll stop believing when her friends do, or if she keeps on believing and keeping the family secret. He doesn’t want that day to come, though, he wants to hold onto his little girl for a little bit longer.</p><p>“Hey Madi,” he whispers when the book’s finished. She’s half asleep on his shoulder, cuddled into his side. She hums sleepily, blinking up at him. “Promise me you’ll never grow up.”</p><p>“Okay,” she yawns, “I promise.”</p><p>“Good girl,” he kisses her head and lies her down, silently switching off the lights and closing the door behind him. Downstairs, Clarke’s tidying the last of Madi’s toys away, it looks like it’s getting to be a struggle now. She’s bigger than she was with Madi. She grins when she sees him, straightening up and stretching out.</p><p>“We almost have a six year old,” she murmurs sadly, one of Madi’s dolls in her hands. “It seems like five minutes ago since she was this big and we were talking about how we’ll celebrate Christmas when she’s old enough to understand, and now she’s a nightmare.”</p><p>He laughs and crosses the room to wrap his arms around her. Madi is a little bit of a nightmare, but she’s the funniest, most lovable nightmare he could have possibly imagined. </p><p>“She’s the best nightmare though,” he murmurs softly.</p><p>“Yeah,” Clarke sighs, “life would be boring if she was normal.”</p><p>He finishes off cleaning up so she can sit down for a bit. When he’s finished, he joins her on the sofa and rests a hand on her stomach. As much as he doesn't want to admit it, he has to hold back tears every time he feels a kick or they turn. He knows it’s uncomfortable for Clarke at times, and pregnancies are never easy, but he also knows she loves every moment of it as much as he does. </p><p>“I made Madi promise to never grow up,” he tells her as they’re getting ready for bed. He only has a few hours before he has to go get everything ready. </p><p>“Did she agree?” Clarke laughs.</p><p>“Yep, and I’m holding her to it. I might even get Steve to write up a contract.”</p><p>He climbs into bed next to her and pulls the covers over them, getting the last good bit of sleep until Christmas night. By then he’s usually so exhausted that he doesn’t even remember getting into bed. </p><p>“Good,” Clarke yawns, settling down. “She needs to stay little for a bit longer.”</p><p>He hums in agreement and wraps an arm around her waist, hand resting on her bump.</p><p>It’s ridiculously early when his alarm goes off. He dresses as quietly as he can and picks up his bag, fuller than usual. </p><p>“I’ll put Madi’s presents out,” he whispers when Clarke blinks awake sleepily. “Don’t carry things up and down the stairs.”</p><p>“Mm-kay,” she murmurs. “We’ll leave some milk and cookies out for you.”</p><p>“I’d appreciate a beer more,” he kisses her head before he goes. She snorts, but goes back to sleep as soon as her eyes close again. Madi’s still fast asleep in her room, he can bet any money she’ll be asleep with Clarke tonight. </p><p>There’s always something especially magical about the village when he arrives, the dizziness doesn't bother him anymore, he actually strangely enjoys it. It’s a sign his annual adventure is beginning. He stops and chats with the workers, getting updates on their lives and proudly showing off pictures of Madi and Clarke, and bump that’s soon to make them a family of four. </p><p>He changes his outfit before Steve makes his way into the office. He’s aged now, more grey in his beard than there was before, but the same goes for Bellamy too, there’s laughter lines around his eyes now, specs of grey around his temple. They all have to get old sometime. </p><p>Steve blinks in surprise at what he’s wearing. “Well, I never thought I’d see the day you’d wear that.”</p><p>Bellamy looks down at the red and white jacket and pants. “Yeah well, I’ve got a little girl who’s excited about Santa, the one who wears this with a big white beard. I’m not growing the beard though.”</p><p>Steve smiles at him, genuine for what is possibly the first time. “Bellamy Blake, I believe you’re going soft.”</p><p>“Nah, I’ve always been soft. You on the other hand, just <em> smiled </em>.”</p><p>“Don’t get used to it. You’re filling that suit a bit better than when you first put it on.”</p><p>Bellamy looks down, he doesn't fill it well at all. So, maybe he’s put on a few pounds in the last 12 or so years he’s been doing this, he wouldn’t say enough to fit the old Santa’s clothes. “I’ll get it taken in if I’m going to wear it every year.”</p><p>“Every year?” Steve blinks in surprise, “What happened to your rebranding of Santa?”</p><p>“It just feels right,” Bellamy shrugs. “I was never going to rebrand really, was I?”</p><p>“Not a chance” Steve smiles, then clears his throat and makes his way to the desk, getting back down to business and going over maps and lists and contingency plans. </p><p>He goes off, feeling a little ridiculous in his outfit, he feels more like a kid playing dress up but despite that, it seemed like the right thing to do. He takes off, happily on his own in his sleigh full of presents. </p><p>When he reaches his own house there’s a lamp left on for him. His hourglass tucked firmly in his bag, he opens the door, and smiles at the bottle of beer and plates of cookies with a note reading <em> Santa, baby. </em> </p><p>Madi’s presents are locked in the spare room, she never goes in there so they were safe from prying eyes, at least for this year. As he’d guessed, Madi’s room was empty, the bed looks like it may have been slept in, but he guesses it wasn’t long until she’d crawled into their bed. </p><p>Sure enough, there are his girls, fast asleep in their bed, Madi wrapped up in Clarkes hold, both sleeping peacefully. He brushes the hair out of Madi’s face, she wakes with a grin, even though that shouldn't have woken her if the hourglass is still working. He suspects she’s got a little bit of magic in her, though. </p><p>“Hey baby,” he whispers. Madi springs up and wraps her arms around his neck. He imagines it’s particularly magical, your dad being Santa.</p><p>“Is it time for presents yet?” she whispers back, clinging tightly to him.</p><p>“Not yet,” he laughs, “I’ll be back soon though, then we can open presents. Be good for mommy, yeah?”</p><p>She nods enthusiastically and lies back down, settling against Clarkes chest and closing her eyes. He places a kiss on her head and Clarke’s head, then gets on his way. His night isn't over yet, there’s still half of the world to cover, but he’s got something to look forward to when he goes home.</p><p>He’s dressed back in his normal clothes when he gets home at the crack of dawn. There’s children all around the world waking up to presents and happiness, parents who have spent weeks stressing about the perfect day are finally letting out a sigh of relief. </p><p>Madi and Clarke are sat up in bed when he gets home, Clarke with a cup of tea and Madi with a cup of milk. There’s a cup of coffee for him on the bedside table, still steaming.</p><p>“How are my best girls?” he grins, picking up his coffee and sitting next to them. He’s exhausted, but it’s worth it to see Madi’s face, and to know that all around the world, he’s brought the same joy. </p><p>That’s the magic of Christmas.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This work was written for t100fic4blm. I'm taking requests for prompts along with lots of other amazing writer and content creators! You can also gift a fanwork to your friend for the holidays! For more information, <a href="https://t100fic-for-blm.carrd.co">Check out the carrd here!</a></p></blockquote></div></div>
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